It's Complicated: A Test Kitchen Cook's Food Relationship Status

I've only been fired once (fingers crossed, knock wood), and it was for eating lunch. It was a silly temp job in which I was supposed to direct people to the appropriate conference room during some corporate whatever-you-call-it. I was bored. And starving. I had made friends with the guys who were catering the event, so I poked my head in the ballroom and made myself a plate. When my manager found me enjoying pork, rice, and Mexican wedding cookies, he rolled his eyes and promptly asked me to leave. I think I said something like, “It would be my pleasure.”

Fast forward to a decade later and I’m the the senior food editor at Bon Appétit. I'm surrounded by food all day, everyday. There's no sneaking away for a snack because the work day is one long snack session. Sounds pretty great, right?

Down in the Test Kitchen we cook and taste for the better part of the day. We work several months out for each issue. That means that at the height of bikini season, we’re elbow deep in turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes. The dog days of summer mean cookie baking and roast beasts for the holiday issue. It’s a lot to wrap one's head—and stomach—around.

No, the list below isn’t from This Is Why You’re Fat. It’s everything I ate at work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday of last week. This is the reality of my weekday diet.

I feel full just looking that over. I know this is a dream job, and it’s a luxury to stress about having too much to eat. But as an adult lady who would still like to fit into her jeans at the end of the week, I have a tough time reconciling what I want to eat with what I should eat with what I have to eat because it’s “work.” It’s embarrassing to complain when so many don't have enough, but the physical and emotional discomfort I often feel after a long day in the kitchen is real.

The question “Will you taste this?” is something we ask each other in the Test Kitchen at least four times a day. After about 2 p.m. the answer is likely, “Umm, do I have to?” After cooking and eating all day, my stomach often feels funny. Did I eat too much? Did I not eat enough? Was it the combination of things I ate or the order in which I ate them? It’s hard to say. I do not want to sound ungrateful, but my chosen profession has complicated my relationship with food and eating in a way that I’m still trying to figure out.

It is a pleasure to be around food all day. And it’s never boring. Part of the reason I got into food is because there was always something new to learn, something new to explore. I was good with my hands, and creative, and pretty good with fractions, ifIdosaysomyself. Every recipe is like an experiment and an art project, but you get to eat it at the end. What could be more fun than that? (Well, a couple of things, but none that I’m willing to get paid for.)

I grew up a skinny kid. Once, my elementary school gym teacher saw me in 7th grade and was compelled to ask my mom, “Is everything OK with Dawn?” It wasn’t cute. But it meant that for the better part of my life I could eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Which is probably one of the reasons I felt comfortable being surrounded by food in the first place. That, and the fact that I need to eat approximately every 90 minutes to keep my mood at a manageable level.

But here I am at 34, surrounded by stuffing and nut tarts all day, and things look a little different. No matter who you are, no matter how healthy your family’s relationship with food, no matter how naturally thin you may be, you will very likely grow up to experience some amount of guilt associated with food and eating it. I ate too much. I know I shouldn’t skip breakfast. I ate the wrong thing, I ate too late. Why did I eat the shitty cookies off the free table? Because I have no self control. Am I getting fat? And so on and so forth. It’s inescapable. And when you’re us—both the lovely, fascinating folks at BA, and especially those of us who cook in the Test Kitchen—it gets especially complicated.

I know that a lot of people spend a good portion of their day thinking about what they want for lunch, or dinner or whatever next meal, snack, coffee break, etc. I do, too. But my fantasy is about eating exactly what I want when I want: something simple like oatmeal, a salad for lunch, a sensible dinner. Boring, maybe, but totally manageable on the old digestive tract. But if I didn't work around food, would I really feel that different overall? Would I still overeat over-snack? Would I eat better or worse? More or less? It’s hard to say. The bottom line is, no matter what I'd do, I'd still spend most of my day thinking about what I wanted to eat for lunch.